Who are we today?
by snchills
Summary: John is feeling guilty about what he has to put his boys through. Wee Dean Wee Sammy


Authors note: Don't ask me where this story came from. I think the more tired I am the more depressing the stories are. Maybe someday when I've gotten some sleep and I'm no longer stressed out about my job I can write happy stories again. I can only assume they had to go through times like this because we know John never had a lot of money when the boys were growing up. If and when they did have money I'm sure it was spent on stuff for hunting not luxuries like clean clothes and motel rooms with two beds. I have a feeling John slept during the day when the boys were at school so they could have the bed at night. At least that's what happens in my Winchester world. Thanks for reading.

Disclamer: Sadly the Guys are not mine but all mistakes are.

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Just another trip to the post office to pick up what ever mail was sent general delivery. Bills that had no hope of being paid usually awaited John, much to his dismay. He chided himself for ever thinking, even if only temporarily, they would get any other kind of mail besides bills and junk mail. Anyone who was any one in his life was long gone now. Birthday and Christmas cards were a thing of the past and he did feel some regret for that. Life as a hunter meant his sons missed out on the most basic things a kid could get…..Party invitations or Christmas cards, maybe a birthday present from one of their grandparents. John couldn't think of that right now, he was busy researching a new hunt. As usual he was hanging around pretending to read his mail when all he was, was waiting for some unsuspecting person to leave their junk mail in the trash. He wasn't looking for any old junk mail, he was waiting for credit card applications to be left behind.

The pickings had been slim today. Only 5 people had been in during the hour John had been standing around the PO boxes and only 1 person had thrown away an unwanted application. John quickly ripped open the tossed application, filled out the information with a few necessary adjustments, and sent it in before leaving to go back to the motel. Hopefully, if the card came in, he would have enough credit on it to get them through the next couple of months. If not he'd be working the pool halls and leaving his boys alone again at night.

Checking his wallet he fingered the only card he had left in his real name. A card he tried desperately to send payments to every month, sometimes going without, just to make sure they never cut him off. That card was his last tie to who he really was: John Winchester, normal American. To the rest of the world these days he was Thomas Easton, or Edward Simms or who ever's name he was using at that moment.

John knew it was difficult for his boys. Dean being older at 10 understood why they had different names every time they moved and went to a new school. John started it as a game for him to make it easier for Dean to remember his new last name when he first started going to school. With a twinge of guilt he realized Dean was now using the same game with Sammy though sometimes his youngest son had a harder time with it.

The new names just confused Sammy. Here he was in 1st grade, his third school this year, and sometimes he just forgot who he was supposed to be. Once when questioned by a teacher about his lapse in name recognition, Sammy panicked and ran from the room. The teacher naturally followed the frightened boy down the hall where she found him huddled next to Dean trying to calm him down. Dean quickly came up with an excuse telling the teacher they were recently adopted, and still were getting used to their new names. It was a weak story but it worked at the time. After that he instilled it hard that the boys know their names and backgrounds to keep wary teachers and who ever from prying too deeply into their business. One slip up and boom, Social Services could swoop in and take them away.

Something else John had to feel guilty about. It wasn't bad enough that he had to teach them about ghosts and other supernatural entities but now they had to be afraid of losing each other. If it was the last thing he did he would make sure no one ever took his boys away from him…EVER.

This new hunt was taking too long and John was forced to keep checking over his resources and counting every nickel and dime spent. They'd been at the same motel for almost a month while he tracked down a series of haunting's at a local nursing home and the money was running out quickly. The credit card he'd been hoping for had failed to come through and now he was forced to come up with some other way to make money.

The job should have been a quick one but each time the spirit struck, another senior died, adding to it another spirit haunting the nursing home. John couldn't find out who the original spirit was so he could salt and burn their bones and all the others that came afterwards were complicating it exponentially. At one point he thought about burning the whole place to the ground but then realized with his luck he'd be caught, charged with arson and murder and then where his boys would be.

Finally, after days of pouring over public records he found out who the original person was that died and why they were still haunting the place. Turns out this old guy had been abandoned and when his bills failed to be paid the good folks at the nursing home just let him rot and die. Little did they know his spirit would come back very pissed off and scare a lot of other seniors, who themselves came back to haunt the place. John finally found his grave, donated by the local church, and spent that rainy cold night digging his bones up before lighting them on fire.

Exhausted, wet, and cold, John headed back to the motel room only to be troubled by what he found there. Both boys were asleep in the motel room's lone bed, the mini fridge was nearly empty as well as the night stand he'd had been using as a cupboard. Dirty clothes were stuffed in bags un-wearable and the ones the boys were wearing looked like they had seen better days. He hung his head, turned around and quietly headed back to the car. He filled up his tank using the last available credit on his own card (all the others he knew were maxed out) and threw it in the trash before getting back in his car. Then he took the few bucks he left had and went down to the local market for some cheap groceries. On his way home John passed a pool hall and noted its busy parking lot. With luck he could come back and score at least a few bucks to get them back on the road and to the next hunt.

Dean woke up as he slid inside the motel room and set the bag down on the table.

"Go back to sleep, son. I grabbed some cereal and milk for you boys for breakfast. I spotted a pool hall down the road so I'm gonna try to make us a few bucks." John whispered pulling the cereal out of the bag and putting the half gallon of milk in the mini fridge.

"Dad you're all wet, don't you want to change?" Dean said slipping from under the blanket and walking up to table. "I take it you found the old guys bones?"

"Yeah, it's all taken care of. Guess that's why the cashier looked so nervous. I must've look like some psycho to her." John laughed realizing he still smelled like smoke as well. "Dry clothes will have to wait, kiddo. Maybe we can score a Laundromat tomorrow."

"Good Dad cuz I gave Sammy my last clean shirt for school yesterday. We can throw all our stuff in one triple loader if you win any money. I'm sure if I ask nicely, some lady will let me use her detergent so we won't have to buy any of that." Dean looked up at his father with assurance that John would come through with laundry money. John felt that twinge of guilt again. Wasn't it bad enough his boys were going to school in dirty clothes, now his son was nonchalant about asking strangers for detergent if and when they were able to clean their clothes. He reached down and ruffled Dean's hair.

"Go back to sleep. I'll be back before you wake up in the morning." He said with a nod.

"Sure thing Dad." Dean smiled at John and slipped back under the covers.

The pool hall was noisy and busy as John scoped out the possible competition. He pulled out his emergency $20 and bought the cheapest beer they had to try to blend in with the drinking crowd. Making his way to the pool tables he sat nearby and watch as the players won and lost. A few guys looked like easy marks, the rest John knew if he played them he'd have to be more careful. Losing was not going to be an option tonight and he didn't have a lot of cash to start off with.

He started with a couple of college kids with a simple bet of $10. An hour later he was up to $50 after winning a couple, losing one for good measure, and winning a couple more again. The college kids gave up soon after and John sat back watching a few others play before asking to join in to their game. These were the guys John knew he had to be careful with. The stakes were higher but John played fairly and left with a little more money in his pocket.

John headed back to the motel and found the boys still asleep. He pulled out the wad of cash from his pocket and counted his winnings. $20 off the bat went back into the emergency fund. The rest counted out to about $150. Not as much as he'd hoped for but enough to get them back on the road.

A little after 7:00, Sammy woke up and accidentally kicked his brother who was still trying to sleep. He jumped out of bed when he saw the cereal and milk on the table and helped himself to a healthy bowl full.

"Whoa there kiddo, leave some for Dean." John said laughing as Sam poured most of the cereal into his bowl. Just then Dean sat up and started to rub his eyes.

"Dad don't let him eat it all, I'm hungry too." Dean said yawning as he approached the table himself.

"Way ahead of you there Dean. Sammy give your brother the cereal."

"But Dad I'm looking for the prize." Sammy said peering inside the box. Dean grabbed it out of his hand and poured himself a bowl.

"You gonna have some too Dad?" Dean asked offering John the box.

"Naw you boys go ahead and enjoy. I'm not much for Lucky Charms. I'm more of a Captain Crunch fan." John said with a wink to his oldest. Dean knew what that wink meant. It meant there only was enough for the two of them and John would get something to eat later on. Dean nodded back at his father. Sammy sat blissfully unaware, laughing as he finally found his prize.

"I want you boys to pack everything up when you get done with your breakfast. We're gonna hit the road as soon as we finish at the Laundromat."

"Yeah Laundromat!" Sammy yelled as he leaped off his chair and ran around the room pick up their clothes.

"Sammy sit down and finish your breakfast." John commanded a little too sternly to his youngest. Startled Sammy sat down and started eating again.

"Dad we can't leave now, you haven't slept yet." Dean said worried his exhausted father would drive them into the ditch on their way to where ever.

"I'm fine Dean. I'll sleep when we stop tonight, I promise." Knowing that the lack of sleep was what was making him cranky as well as his money woes. 24 hours later they were onto a new hunt and a new motel room with new names.

"Who are we today daddy?" Little Sammy asked not wanting to disappoint his father and mess it up with his new teachers before they went to enroll in their new school.

John looked down at Sammy with sadness in his eyes. What son should have to ask their father who they were going to pretend to be at his age or at Dean's age for that matter. He wished for the rest of their lives they would only have to be Dean and Sam Winchester but he knew that would never happen.

"You are the son's of Walter Davidson…Dean and Sam Davidson. Think you can remember that Sammy?"

"Okay daddy. Davidson, I got it." Sammy said with determination.

"Good boy. Now let's go get you registered." John said putting his hands on each boy's shoulders as they entered their new school.

Years would go by. Names would be used and forgotten, but they never lost sight of who they really were. Winchesters, and Winchesters would be who they'd be till the day that they died.


End file.
